


Rukia and Renji Make a Baby (at Byakuya’s Birthday Party)

by polynya



Category: Bleach
Genre: Birthday Party, Canon Compliant, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/M, Family Planning, Fertility kidou gone slightly overboard, Horniness, Married Sex, Poetry, Shinigami babymaking headcanons, Sneaking Around, Stupidity, just way too much detail on the babymaking i am not fooling, two halves of one whole idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polynya/pseuds/polynya
Summary: Kuchiki Rukia has formulated a fool-proof, 40-step plan for getting her husband to put a baby in her. This one makes it all the way to step 17 before falling apart, but fortunately, Rukia and Renji are very good at improvising.
Relationships: Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Rukia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Rukia and Renji Make a Baby (at Byakuya’s Birthday Party)

**Author's Note:**

> Every year, around Byakuya's birthday, we start making jokes about how Ichika got conceived at Byakuya's birthday party, and...ehhhhhh...this happened. 
> 
> Credit goes to sillythings for being the first person to do the math on Ichika's birthday. Much thanks to Luna12, my beta reader, who read this even after I told her how stupid it was.
> 
> I wrote this for me, so I gratuitously set it in the continuity of my big series, [The Heart is a Muscle](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1323788). The only ramifications of this are a) the idea that Rukia and Renji have been Battle Partners for so long that they can do some neat reiatsu synchronization tricks and the zanpaktou spirits grudgingly put up with one another and b) there are some brief cameos by some of my very minor OCs from that series. You absolutely do not need to read any of it to enjoy this.
> 
> Obviously, this contains explicit sex between two consenting, married adults who are purposely trying to conceive a child. It also contains a fair amount of detail on the process of conception. It's also really, _really_ dumb, because my favorite kind of porn is dumb porn.

Renji watched his wife as her eyes skimmed down the instructions for The Kidou, even though he knew she’d read them at least sixteen times.

It was funny, because usually, when you referred to “The Kidou” people assumed you meant the one that _prevented_ , well, exactly the thing they were trying to make happen. But as soon as the wedding and New Years had passed, Rukia had kicked off Operation: Put a Bun in the Oven, of which Renji was the First Officer. Usually, Renji considered himself the over-planner of the family, but Rukia had really jumped into this one with both feet, and he was happy to be the support man this time around. So far, his job had been mostly to shuffle a list of foods Rukia had given him into their weekly meal rotation, and to make sure he wasn’t tying his fundoshi too tightly. Rukia had been reading books and making charts and having whispery tea dates with a number of her Kuchiki cousins who already had children, as well as Hanatarou, and _Akon_ , of all people.

The primary thing, Rukia had told him, was timing. After that, the trick was that each of their bodies had to break off a little bit of reiryouku, which would combine into a new soul. According to Akon, all this was achieved through regular ol’ sex, because they thought of themselves as people and that’s how people made babies. The trickiness came in the fact, after having trained as shinigami for half a century, most of their reiryouku was wrapped up tightly in their zanpakutou, and most zanpakutou weren’t too keen on giving any up, especially when someone else’s zanpakutou was involved.

Hence, The Kidou.

“Are there any side effects?” Renji asked, chewing on a thumbnail.

“Well, the whole point of the thing is that it makes your reiryouku go all loosey-goosey,” Rukia explained, not looking up. “Just the opposite of the Safe Sex Kidou. It recommends that we ‘avoid going to bankai, if applicable.’”

“Why? What would happen?” Renji asked suspiciously.

“Doesn’t say,” Rukia replied ominously. “I imagine it might make it a little difficult to communicate with our zanpakutou, or something like that. Just don’t do it.”

“What if we get attacked?”

“At Byakuya’s party? It’s his birthday, if he gets attacked, he should be the one that gets to go to bankai, anyway. Captain Hitsugaya is coming, too. They can practice some of the super sparkly combo moves they’ve been working on.”

“A man gets attacked on his birthday and his lieutenant doesn’t go to bankai, people are gonna talk,” Renji grumbled.

Rukia smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. “Just tell people you ate too much cake. And no one is going to attack his birthday party. I have been to a million Byakuya parties and only, like, three of them have ever gotten attacked. It’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to cast the thing before we go to the party,” Renji pressed. “Can’t we just do it when we get home?”

“Nooooo,” Rukia whined. “It takes four to five hours to reach potency and it’s the most likely to work if we do it the day before I ovulate and I am almost certain I am going to ovulate tomorrow because--”

Renji held up his hands. “I know. I know. You have told me all about the ovulation signs and portents, like, twenty times, already. You know I love to hear about your… mucuses, but I have heard enough about the mucuses.” He reached out to rub his hands over her shoulders. “This is only our first month of trying. You… you know this might take a few tries, right?”

“All the more reason to follow the instructions to the letter!”

Renji sighed. They’d had this conversation a dozen times already. Rukia had never been very good at tempering her expectations. There was really only one thing to do at this point: buckle up and go along with her crazy schemes.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Go ahead and cast your dumb fertility kidou on me.”

“Trust me,” Rukia assured him. “This is a great idea.”

* * *

As it turned out, there were side effects.

Or perhaps they were just part and parcel of the _main effect_ , but that didn’t make them any less unanticipated and inconvenient.

Renji’s fourth seat, Kuchiki Choei, had brought his new boyfriend to the party, and Renji was doing his man a solid by telling his most impressive Choei story (it was the time Choei accidentally managed to knock Byakuya on his ass during a spar, but Renji was really good at buffing it up a bit). The new boyfriend was _improbably_ hot and played backup striker for the Seireitei Firebirds. There was no way Choei was gonna keep this guy for more than a week.

This last fact became more and more self-evident as Renji realized the boyfriend was less interested in Renji’s description of Choei’s warhammer and more interested in the way Renji’s tattoos peeked out of the neckline of his kimono. Renji was no stranger to getting his cleavage checked out, but he _was_ slightly embarrassed at how hot his face was starting to feel, the slight stirring in his gut at the prospect of being found attractive. It had been a long time since he’d flirted with anyone who wasn’t his wife and--

His wife. Rukia, his beautiful wife, the light of his life, with her deep blue eyes and flawless cheekbones. An image of her flashed through his mind from a recent lazy Saturday. He’d braved the cold floorboards to go make her a cup of tea, and had returned to find her stretched out in bed, so elegant, despite her tousled hair and the tangle of sheets around her waist, her breasts standing at attention in the cold morning--

“Oi! You have a stroke or something, Abarai?” Choei asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Rukia?” Renji grunted stupidly.

Choei rolled his eyes indulgently. “This happens sometimes when he thinks about his wife.”

“Oh, you’re married?” the football player asked, sounding more than a little disappointed.

“I need to go find my wife,” Renji said, his brow furrowing. Some small part of his brain reminded him that he couldn’t just walk off in the middle of a conversation, no matter how magnetic his wife’s shapely bottom might be. He pointed an accusatory finger at the boyfriend. “Kuchiki is a gentleman and an upstanding officer of the Sixth Division! He is fearless and has a great sense of style! You could not possibly do better!”

Choei raised one skeptical eyebrow at him, but Renji didn’t see it, because was already weaving through the crowd, focused on Rukia’s spirit ribbon like a hound on a scent.

As it turned out, Rukia wasn’t very hard to find. She was holding court with her best noble friends in the first place he would have looked anyway, behind the shrimp table. His initial thought upon spotting her was that she was stunning, a cold drink in the desert. By his estimate, they’d parted ways roughly forty-five minutes before, when Renji got waylaid by an ancient Kuchiki uncle who wanted to tell him war stories. In that time, Rukia had somehow transformed from his normal, beautiful, beloved life partner into an unearthly being composed of starlight and glamour. The second thing he noticed was that Rukia was squinting at one of her friends with a dazed, bewildered look in her eyes. If he recalled correctly, it was the one who wrote the racy romance novels, a well-padded young woman with voluminous curls and a smattering of freckles across her nose.

“-- do you really think that’s realistic?”

“Since when has one of your books _ever_ been realistic?” one of the other women, the one who ran the horse farm, asked.

“Well, not _realistic_ so much, but, you know, they just killed a dragon, they’re gonna be in their armor, and covered in, you know, dragon bits--”

“I have never once wanted to bone down after killing a Hollow,” Lady Hirata put in. Renji knew Hirata best out of Rukia’s friends, namely because she currently held Renji’s old position of Sixth Seat of Squad 11.

“No, it’s super hot,” Rukia insisted. She clenched a fist. “The adrenaline running through your veins, the synchronicity of fighting side-by-side, the thrill of victory! How could you help but grab your man by his kosode, pull him down to your level, and kiss him like the hero he is?”

“Both my leads are women, but when you put it that way...” Lady Akizuki, the writer pointed out.

“Renji!” Rukia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Hi!”

Hirata did a slightly double-take at his approach. “Abarai! Good to see you!” she said cheerfully before leaning to the side and muttering under her breath, “Rukia has been acting _really weird_. It doesn’t seem like she’s had all that much to drink, but, uh...”

“I will take care of it,” Renji replied, in what he hoped sounded like a very serious voice. “Hey, babe, how’s it going?”

“Hi,” Rukia repeated, smiling at him like she hadn’t seen him for a week, biting her bottom lip just the tiniest bit.

She was so cute. Oh, no, she was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his life. A tendril of hair had escaped from her kanzashi and was curling down the side of her neck. Renji imagined himself elbowing her friends out of the way, just so he could sweep that little piece of hair away and kiss the sweet skin underneath. “We gotta get out of here,” he realized, half to himself.

Rukia blinked twice, and then her eyes widened. “That’s _right_! We _do_ need to get out of here!” She tried to make her farewells to her friends, but got distracted again partway through. “Trust me on this, Toshiko! It’ll be a bestseller!” She gestured at Renji. “Just _look_ at him! Can you picture him, wiping dragon blood off his face with the back of his hand, his uniform hanging off in shreds, sweat dripping down between his muscles--”

“Mmm,” Lady Akizuki nodded, tapping her chin, obviously _picturing_ it.

“Lady Akizuki is the writer, why don’t you let her use her imagination on this one?” Renji encouraged. Then it occurred to him that cajoling was maybe not the best way to get through to Rukia at the moment. He slouched a little, lowered his eyelids, and jerked his head to the side. “C’mon, babe. Let’s bounce,” he declared in his best bored, overgrown delinquent voice.

Rukia swallowed, her eyes gone dark with lust. “Okay,” she squeaked.

“Bye, Renji!” the women chorused as he finally managed to get going.

“Hey! Hey, Renji!” Rukia hissed. “Hey, can I have a kiss? We can duck behind that ice sculpture!”

“Rukia, I would love to kiss you behind the ice sculpture of Senbonzakura and Hyourinmaru doing some sort of best friends handshake...” Renji’s eyes darted from side-to-side, wondering if they could actually get away with it, before he got a good grip on his stupid brain. “But if I do, I am not going to be able to stop. We _need_ to get _home_ , where I am going to do _so many_ things to you.”

“Okay. Right. Okay,” Rukia agreed, nodding eagerly. “I just want to say good night and happy birthday to Brother, and then we can make like a bakery truck and haul our buns outta here.” She made a little steering motion and honked an imaginary horn.

“You’re definitely getting weird,” Renji informed her.

“Orihime taught me that one.”

“I believe you. Please, just try to keep it together for a few minutes longer.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rukia agreed, waggling her eyebrows at him. “I mean, Lieutenant. I’m the captain.” She puffed out her chest and stretched herself up to her full height.

“How about you let me say the good-byes?” Renji suggested, tucking her under his arm and steering her across the room. Unfortunately, as her side pressed into his, an electric sizzle shot through his body . He let out a long breath. He could do this. All he had to do was wish his Captain-in-Law a Happy Birthday and then he could go home and boff his beautiful wife to his heart’s content. Wait, no. Maybe Byakuya was _Rukia’s_ Captain-in-Law? It was hard to remember, because Renji has started thinking about Rukia’s breasts again and it was hard to think about other things. Why would you want to think about other things when you could be thinking about Rukia’s perfect breasts?

Oddly enough, Byakuya’s face seemed to light up when he saw Rukia and Renji coming toward him. That seemed incorrect, according to Renji’s brain. He didn’t recall his captain’s face being able to do that. Renji wondered whose breasts Byakuya was thinking about.

“Rukia,” Byakuya said in a conspiratorial whisper, which was about as excited as his voice would go. “You will not believe it!”

Rukia’s eyes went wide. “I promise I will, Brother!” she exclaimed.

“Do you recall when I told you I was going to invite Ichiyanagi Yayoi to my party and you said she would never come?”

“The reclusive poet?” Renji gasped, immediately horrified that he was using up valuable brain storage space on that piece of information.

“Yes!” Byakuya nodded. “And she has…” he leaned forward, “written me a poem.”

“Get out!” Rukia cried. “No way!”

If Byakuya found anything unusual about his sister displaying this level of enthusiasm for a poet, his face did not betray it. “Truly,” he preened. “And she is going to perform it. Here. At my birthday party. At ten o’clock.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Renji replied. “We’re leaving. Right now. We’re leaving now.”

Byakuya’s face froze.

“Dummy!” Rukia scolded, shoving him. “We were _going_ to leave,” she covered. “But obviously, we can’t now. We’ll have to leave, you know, later. After the poem.”

“Oh, right,” Renji agreed.

“Are you two feeling alright?” Byakuya asked slowly.

“Too much cake,” Renji excused at the same time Rukia said, “Cold medicine.”

Byakuya looked confused. “The cake hasn’t been served yet.”

“Not enough cake, is what I meant,” Renji lied. “Too much thinking about cake. Sorry.”

“Renji wasn’t feeling well, and he took some cold medicine before we came over, and it’s made him stupid, obviously,” Rukia explained. “It’s a good thing he’s so handsome, right?”

“Er,” Byakuya replied.

“I’m just gonna sneak him down to the kitchen and get him some cake, that’ll fix him right up,” Rukia flapped her hand at her brother, who continued to look confused. “We’ll be back by ten, though, wouldn’t miss that poem for anything!”

“Quick thinking! I think he bought it!” Renji leaned down to whisper into her ear as they walked away. Cripes, his wife was smart! Her hair smelled amazing and he almost forgot what he was going to say next. He really just wanted to get her clothes off and-- “Rukia, we can’t stay until ten! That’s an hour away! And then… listen to a poem? I cannot. I am way too horny to listen to poetry. I will die.”

“Shh, shh!” Rukia tried to reassure him. He really liked the shape her lips made when she did that. “I have a plan.” She led him toward the passage that led back to the private section of the house, nodding at the doorman stationed there. “We need cake,” she whispered solemnly to the man and the liveried servant seemed to buy it, letting them through with a respectful bow. Or maybe Rukia was just allowed to do what she wanted. Renji sure liked to let Rukia do whatever she wanted. She deserved it, in his opinion.

“I don’t think cake is actually going to help,” he reluctantly explained.

“We’re not getting cake,” Rukia replied grimly. “We’re going to my room.”

“Your room? Your… old bedroom?”

“Yes, my old bedroom. Byakuya said he was going to keep it for me, in case I ever needed to spend the night.”

“This was probably not what he had in mind.”

“If he wants a niece or nephew, he can _deal with it_.”

For a moment, Renji tried to wrap his head around the idea of _doing it_ in Rukia’s bedroom. She’d lived there since the time he’d still been in the Academy. They’d been tiny, then, hardly more than babies, themselves. Would there be Chappy posters? Renji briefly wondered if he would have trouble getting it up with Chappy watching him. Rukia’s hand started to slip around his waist, but then she changed her mind and let it drift south instead. Renji decided that Chappy could also _deal with it_.

Renji’s fingers teased at Rukia’s sleeve, trying to work it up over her elbow, so he could touch her skin. Despite the deep winter outside, it was lightweight silk; these parties tended to get pretty hot with so many people in the same room. Renji could feel the warmth of Rukia’s skin through the thin, slippery fabric. He glanced down and noticed that her cheeks were flushed and she was a bit breathless. “Is it very far?” he asked, already thinking about pushing her up against the wall. A woman that hot deserved to be kissed. He was falling down on his husbandly duties.

Rukia’s fingers kneaded into the muscles of his butt. “Just the next hallway,” she grunted.

Somehow, they made it, tumbling through the doorway before Rukia could even get it half open. The decor of Rukia’s bedroom turned out to be a bit of a non-concern. The second she slammed the shoji closed, his vision contracted down to nothing but his wife. “I want you,” he panted.

“Stop wasting breath,” she replied, clawing at the front of his kimono.

Renji bent down and taking her face in his hands, kissed her desperately.

Rukia jerked his kimono open. Her hands dove inside, sliding up over his abs until she found his nipples. She sucked at his bottom lip, letting out a low moan.

Renji grabbed her under the ass in order to heft her up to a more comfortable kissing height.

“No, wait,” Rukia stopped him, sounding supremely put out that she had to stop kissing him for even a moment. “I can’t wrap my legs around you in this kimono. Let me get undressed, first.”

Renji _meant_ to help, he really did. He tried to slip the dress down over her shoulders while she dealt with the obi. It was wrapped too securely, though, and he only managed to part the neckline enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her collarbone before his hand slipped on the slick fabric. He was suddenly obsessed with finding out what her breasts would feel like through the thin silk, and he ran one palm from her shoulder to the tip of her tit. Renji had long memorized the curves of Rukia’s breasts, but familiarity stole none of their magic. It was always a delight to feel a nipple stiffen under his devotions, but this one was already standing to attention. He was fascinated with the added texture of the silk, this fascinating barrier separating her skin from his.

“Renji,” she warned.

Renji liked the tortured way she dragged out the vowels of his name. He took her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and rolling it gently back and forth. “Yes?” he asked, before leaning down again to trail kisses down the side of her neck.

“I’m-- I’m never going to be able to get this thing off if you keep-- _fuck_.”

Renji eased his knees down to the floor, his mouth trailing over the kimono, until he was able to take a nipple between his teeth, his tongue brushing against the silk. He pushed her hands away from her waist and took over with the obi. He’d always been good with knots.

Rukia fingers dug into the back of his head, pressing his face against her chest. “That feels so good,” she groaned.

Renji, who knew how to take a hint, intensified his assault, licking and mouthing at her breast. As exciting as the kimono was, though, he was impatient to get to Rukia herself. Fortunately, he finally prevailed over her obijime and tossed it off to the side triumphantly. He raised himself back up to kiss Rukia on the mouth again, unwinding the obi from around her waist.

The kimono would have been next, but Rukia got in his way, as she groped for his much simpler sash. “Stop getting ahead of me,” she demanded around his kisses.

“Is it a competition?” Renji asked, shrugging his shoulders out of his kimono as Rukia pushed it away.

“Always,” Rukia replied, smoothly rising to her feet, leaving her own clothing in a puddle on the floor.

Renji’s head seemed to have cleared from its earlier haziness, now that he was able to focus on the only thing he cared about. He sat back on his haunches, taking a moment to appreciate what a magnificent creature he’d married. She flooded his senses, primarily her smell and her reiatsu, which hung around her in a haze, nearly visible, even though her battle spirits weren’t up. She looked down on him, her eyes lidded imperiously, and he realized that her normally dark blue irises were hazy with ice crystals, and the tips of her hair seemed to have been drained of their color. His heart raced at the very idea of her. 144cm and stark naked, she was the most powerful thing he’d ever seen.

“You know you’re glowing, right?” Renji informed her.

“So’re you,” Rukia replied. “Help me with the futon, would you?”

“Helping” basically meant wrestling the thing out of the closet while Rukia stared at him, lust shining in her eyes. Renji didn’t mind, he rather enjoyed being watched. Once he had it spread out adequately, he stretched up to his full height, and then, very deliberately, unwound his fundoshi while making firm eye contact with her. Rukia glanced down once or twice, the faint smile tracing her lips the only sign that she liked what she saw. No, not the only sign. She was breathing more heavily than usual, and her pulse had picked up. His nostrils flared as he thought about the blood pounding through her veins. He wanted to feel her under him, warm and passionate and as turned on has he was, no matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise. He felt his mouth splitting into a toothy grin, and she narrowed her eyes at him in return.

“I want to be on top,” Rukia announced. “Get down there.”

This wasn’t exactly an unusual request. Given their relative sizes, most of the better angles for Rukia required her to be on top. And under normal circumstances, Renji found it tremendously sexy to have her looking down on him, running him at a pace of her choosing. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

“No,” he replied.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “No?”

“You want me to put a baby in you, you’re gonna be on the bottom.” It was such an obvious bluff. He had the biggest hard-on of his entire life, and he was absolutely desperate to get in her. Besides, Rukia had been busting her ass planning all this, it wasn’t like he was actually going to ruin all her hard work. But there was something in him that felt the need to bristle and pound his chest a bit. He really did want to be on top.

Rukia contemplated him for a moment. “I’ll make you a deal,” she finally said. “I get to be on top for the warm ups. If you do a good job...we’ll see what happens next.”

“That’s not much of a deal,” Renji returned.

“It is what it is,” Rukia shrugged. “Better make a decision quick, Abarai, or we’ll miss the _poetry_.”

“It’s a deal,” Renji agreed. He got comfortable on the futon while Rukia went to go see if she still had some lube in the attached bathroom.

It was a pretty good deal, in reality. When it came to oral sex, Rukia sitting on his face was the best position, bar none. In fact, Rukia sitting on his face might be his favorite sexual position, period. It was definitely in the top three. And whatever happened next, happened. It was starting to grow on him how insanely hot it was going to be to come inside of Rukia with no protection kidou. He didn’t think of himself as a particularly possessive guy-- they’d been apart a long time, and life goes on, y’know?-- but the thought that tough-as-nails Kuchiki Rukia, Acting Captain of the Thirteenth, First Daughter of the Kuchiki, and all-around badass was gonna let he, Abarai Renji, knock her up? _Damn_.

Rukia returned, rolling the bottle of lube between her palms to warm it up. She straddled his upper chest, facing his dick, and sank down, sliding her calves under his shoulders. Renji kissed the inside of her knee, and worked his way up the silky expanse of her inner thigh, as she scooted back into position. He could feel her fingers tracing over his abs and he drew in a sharp breath. He heard Rukia chuckle, and as revenge, he immediately ran his tongue over her outer folds. Rukia responded with a very satisfactory shuddery sigh, but it was too late: she was gonna get it now.

Renji reached up to run his hands up the lines of her hips as he performed his favorite household duty. He hardly needed to-- he didn’t think he’d ever seen Rukia so wet before. She was wet for him, he reminded himself, so eager for him to shove his dick in her and fill her up with his cum. He could feel her hands on his dick now, in fact, smearing warm, slippery lube on his shaft, pumping him loosely, her fingers barely able to encircle him.

“Renji, we should… we should, um…”

It was hard for Renji to pay attention to whatever it was Rukia wanted him to do, because he still couldn’t get enough of her. Her warm skin under his hands, the scent and taste of her, and most of all, her reiatsu, the cold fire of her soul, surrounding him, permeating his own, the boundaries between them becoming fuzzy and--

Something suddenly _shifted_ , and abruptly, there _was_ no boundary between their reiatsu. This had happened before, in battle, and occasionally they could manage it in practice sessions if their zanpakutou were feeling accommodating. It had never happened during sex before. Well…it was a little like the time in the Royal Realm, but there had been so much ambient--

 _I need to put my dick in Rukia right now, or this is all gonna be for nothing_ , the newly returned logical part of Renji’s brain informed him.

Gently, he pushed her hips up and forward, away from him, and managed to scoot up to a sitting position behind her. “You ready?” he asked.

Rukia turned back to look at him, her head tilted half upside down, grinning. Her eyes had lost their icy sheen and were now wide and wild, and her hair was coming loose from its hairpins. If synching up had put him back on track, it seemed to have knocked her further askew. Fucking Zabimaru.

Renji sat up on his knees, and pulled Rukia onto his lap, spinning her to face him.

“I thought you said you wanted to be on top,” she reminded him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“We’re both on top,” he declared. It was pretty obvious now that the competitiveness was coming from their zanpakutou. Renji was well-versed in tricking his idiot into thinking they’d gotten their way. Rukia seemed to accept this logic as she put her hands on his shoulders and got herself lined up. She pressed her forehead against his, and sank down onto him.

Perhaps Rukia was technically on top of him, but he sat taller, at least when she was at the bottom of her stroke. They both had a lot of leverage in this position, and best of all, he got to look at her face while he railed her, which was the main thing he liked about being on top, anyway.

Renji wanted to kiss Rukia again, but he also wanted to keep looking at her. She trailed one of her hands down his chest, teasing her fingers over his nipple. Renji mirrored the motion, moving one of his hands up from her hip to get a delightful handful of breast instead. The desperate horniness that sent them scrambling from the party had subsided into a pleasant sense of well-being. He had the power of two captain-class zanpakutou coursing through his soul and he was fucking his beautiful wife. All was right with the world.

Rukia’s mouth curved into the same lopsided smile she made when she was very drunk. “You,” she informed him, “are going to put the most magnificent baby in me.”

“Mmm,” Renji agreed, rubbing her breast in gentle circles. “You know that once you’re pregnant, I am not going to be able to keep my hands off you, right?”

“Looking forward to my tits getting a little bigger, eh?” she teased. “Me, too.”

“That’ll be nice, for sure,” Renji nodded, and ran his knuckles down over her currently taut stomach. “But seeing you big and round and beautiful, with our baby inside…” It was making him feel overheated, just thinking about it. “I am going to keep you so happy.”

“I have heard,” Rukia added, between breaths that were getting heavier and heavier, “that sex is extra good when you’re pregnant. More blood flow down in the sensitive parts.”

“Well, you’re gonna find out,” Renji purred, thrusting harder up into her.

Rukia made a helpless mew before crushing her mouth to his.

As usual, his wife was much smarter than him. Talking was overrated. He reached around her to knead his fingers into her ass as she pressed her chest against his, grinding her hips on each downstroke.

In fact, if he quieted his mind enough, he could get little echoes of what Rukia was feeling. He shortened his strokes, keeping things fast and deep. It felt amazing enough on its own, being buried up to the hilt in her, but it was overlaid with a delicious feeling of being stretched full, of being pounded right into his core. She squeezed her hand down between them, to touch the base of his shaft, or maybe her own clit, or maybe both at once.

It was like the world had gained another dimension, or at least a few more colors. It was like someone had plugged in one of those amplifier things Shuuhei had for his electric guitar. Rukia’s tongue swept his mouth, her fingers twined in his hair. She was making little whimpering noises. She had to be nearly as close as he was, and all Renji could think about was what it was going to feel like when their orgasms came crashing down on both of them at once. Just one more nudge would tip them over, he was sure of it.

Renji had a great idea. He stretched one arm down, around Rukia’s bottom, and gave his own balls a friendly little how-do-you do.

They both came immediately-- Rukia with a delighted shriek, Renji with a hard grunt. He’d been thinking about this for weeks, about coming inside her, about filling her up to the brim. It was so good, pouring his hot seed into her, feeling the reverberations of her own climax, that he continued to thrust into her as his body was racked with wave after wave of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Rukia was screaming over and over, throwing her head back. “Fuck, yes!”

And just when it seemed like he should start coming down any moment now, a percussion of force reverberated through him, a lightning bolt with thunder following right on its tail. It was the most amazing thing he had ever felt. It was like he had unlocked some new level of sexual release, the bankai of nutting. It was almost like casting a kidou, like a release of energy, rather than matter. Rukia went silent, her eyes widening with surprise and her mouth dropping open before curving into a huge grin.

Renji abruptly felt incredibly tired. It was very much like coming out of bankai, actually, the extra _passengers_ in his head fading away, the pressure of his reiatsu swirling away like water down a drain. His limbs felt shaky and he wanted to lie down, but he also wanted to hold onto the last vestiges of his connection to Rukia before they washed away as well.

“Did you, uh, feel that last bit at the end?” he asked, stupidly.

“Of course I did,” she grinned back.

“Is that… what was supposed to happen? D’you think?”

“I think so,” Rukia replied, her eyes bright.

“It didn’t hurt or anything, did it? Felt a bit like lettin’ off a shakkahou, you know, when I manage to do it right.”

“No, it felt very nice, actually,” Rukia giggled. She leaned forward and kissed him enthusiastically. “Good job, Mr. Abarai!”

“I would like to fall over, now,” Renji admitted.

“Let’s go,” Rukia agreed, grabbing him by the arms and leaning sideways. Renji followed, and they tipped over onto the futon. Renji rolled onto his back, and huffed a contented sigh at the ceiling. Rukia scooted over closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side. "Love you," she murmured, rubbing his cheek over his ribs."

"Love you, too," he responded cheerfully.

Now that they had a moment of quiet, Renji took the opportunity to look around. “So this is your old place, huh?”

“It seems pretty impersonal now,” Rukia replied, her eyes roaming the walls. “Brought most of my stuff with me when I moved out.” She was quiet for a moment. “Looks like someone did a little redecorating, so it didn’t look so plain.” She pointed to a scroll hanging near the door, beautifully hand-painted with the characters for “sibling love.” Rukia pursed her lips. “So’s that.” It was a framed photograph from their wedding reception, the two of them smiling at each other with love and maybe a little mischief in their eyes as hoisted glasses of sake.

Renji frowned. “That’s a nice picture. Isn’t that one of the ones Orihime took? How’d your brother get ahold of it?”

“His ways are mysterious,” Rukia said, laying back in Renji’s arms again, and closing her eyes.

Renji continued to take in the mysteries of Rukia’s old lair. There was a make-up table, still liberally loaded down with bottles and jars. A writing desk, complete with calligraphy supplies. A sword rack meant to hold a single zanpakutou. Woulda been polite to upgrade _that_. And then, tacked to the wall, just to the left of the desk...

“Hey, Ru?”

“Mmm?”

“How ‘bout that? ‘Zat new?” Renji pointed.

“No, I put that up. It seemed like it should stay here.”

Renji contemplated it. “It’s, uh, nice. You draw that, or did Byakuya?”

“We did it together,” Rukia explained cheerfully. “But I drew the Seaweed Ambassador and he drew the Chappy. An art exchange, y’know?”

“I see,” Renji nodded. He tilted his head down and kissed Rukia’s hair. “If we ever bone in your room again, can we, like, tape some little sunglasses on ‘em?”

“Absolutely,” Rukia agreed.

* * *

“ _The wren is tiny_

_The smallest bird in Japan_

_Why does he shout?_

_To attract females, of course_

_Behold! I am glorious!”_

“I thought you said this poem was about you,” Renji asked Byakuya, stuffing another bite of cake in his mouth. He was honestly starving, and wondered if Rukia would be up for going to the all-night ramen place when they finally got out of here. He was also beginning to think he might be interested in going for another round of babymaking, so it might to be a race to see if the hunger or the horniness won out.

“I said it was _for_ me, not about me,” Byakuya replied in a hushed voice. Byakuya didn’t normally talk while poetry was happening, but the poem had been going on for a _really_ long time. “Since when do you eat cake, anyway? I thought you had a dislike for it.”

“It’s for his cold,” Rukia explained, jamming a huge bite of cake in her own mouth. “Bananas are good for colds. Hanatarou told me that.”

“Ah, yes, that makes sense.”

Renji wasn’t so sure about that and he also wasn’t so sure that bananas belonged on cakes, but he _was_ sure that this poet woman was never, ever going to shut up about wrens.

_“He crouches to eat_

_Snails, millipedes, other pests_

_Assisting the gardener.”_

Renji had sort of assumed that maybe Ms. Ichiyanagi was hot. Byakuya was a huge fan, and had definitely read more than one tiny bird poem out loud to Renji in the office, when one happened to be published in _Boring Poetry Monthly_ , or whatever that magazine was called. It’s possible she was hot, Renji supposed. It was sort of hard to tell because she was draped in at least six veils, some of which had leaves and twigs stuck in them.

“If you are not feeling well, Abarai, you should take care of yourself,” Byakuya said. Renji and Rukia abruptly stared at him.

“I’m sure the bananas will fix me right up, sir,” Renji nodded.

Byakuya regarded him for a moment. “You are looking a bit feverish. Both of you are. Perhaps you should take tomorrow off.” He frowned. “If my sister becomes ill because of you, Abarai, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

Rukia elbowed Renji playfully. “We should definitely take tomorrow off, then. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Yea-ah,” Renji agreed slowly, eying his Captain-in-Law-in-Law, whose attention had clearly, once again, drifted back to tiny birds.

* * *

_Three weeks later…_

“I did definitely feel a weird sensation in my general abdominal area earlier this week, but it was the night after you tried to make Chad’s nacho recipe and I put all those pickled jalapenos on them, so, y’know.”

“I understand. I did tell you to go easy on those.”

“I know, I know.” Rukia sighed and looked glum. “I mean, you definitely did your part. There was definitely a _transfer of soul matter_ , that’s what you called it, right, Akon?”

“Yeah,” Akon grunted.

“Right, that definitely happened. Like a _super orgasm._ ”

“Can we not talk about this in front of Akon?” Renji asked hopefully.

“Akon doesn’t care.”

“I really don’t care.”

“But then it needs to, like, _attach_. What if it didn’t attach? What if my uterus is too slippery? What if you’re, like, a super good baby maker, and I wasted all your effort?”

Renji shrugged. “Then we’ll just… do it again? I mean, aside from some extremely bad planning, it was actually pretty fun. Also, didn’t Akon take some scans of your uterus? He said it was a great uterus.”

“Extremely good uterus. Correct geometry. Generous endometrium.” Akon squinted at the scanner in his hand. It was attached to an octopus-looking thing that was currently suctioned to Rukia’s midsection. Orihime had told Rukia that in the Living World, they had little sticks you could pee on and it would tell you if you were pregnant. Rukia immediately became obsessed with the idea, even though they clearly wouldn’t work on spirit matter. Akon had agreed to help, but proclaimed the sticks “gross” (???) and gone in his own direction. Renji was just trying to be grateful that at least the thing didn’t seem to have any eyeballs.

“Why are we having a science-based pregnancy again?” he asked.

“Because Hanatarou says I need to be ‘relaxed’ and ‘patient’ and I don’t have time for that shit.”

“That’s right,” Akon agreed. The little scanner in his hands made a sound that sounded like the screaming of a tortured soul. Renji, personally, would have used a ‘beep,’ but they probably wouldn’t have let Renji into Squad 12 for a number of reasons. Akon pursed his lips briefly, and then held up his hand, his palm facing Rukia. “Up top, Kuchiki.”

Rukia exchanged a wide-eyed stare with Renji, and then returned the high-five.

Akon extended his hand to Renji. “You, too, Abarai.”

“Does this... does this mean…?” Renji stuttered.

“The high fives are for me,” Akon explained. “What has three horns and just developed a reiatsilloscope sensitive enough to detect a self-sustaining, heteromorphic, spectrally complete reiatsu signature?” When Rukia and Renji stared at him blankly, he jabbed both thumbs towards himself with a toothy grin. “This guy!” At their stormy expressions, he tried to explain. “I have actually been working on this for another project, and to be honest, you two and your little… reproduction situation… has been enormously helpful.”

“Who are you trying to knock up?” Rukia demanded.

“A vat of reishi-based proteins, basically.”

“Wait, wait!” Renji interrupted. “If your detector works, that implies there was something to detect, right? A hetero-whatsit reiatsu signature?”

“Correct, and good point! Yeah, good job, kids, you made a proto-soul. In about two weeks, one of the hedge witches over at Four ought to be able to confirm that for you. In the meantime, eat a lot of kale. Folic acid is important for brainstem development.”

“We did it?” Rukia asked in a tiny voice.

“We did it,” Renji echoed, his voice equally small. His hand groped for Rukia’s.

“We did it,” Rukia repeated again, louder this time. She clenched a fist of victory. “On the first try! We did it on the first try! Ha HA! I pity the next Kuchiki aunt to make a snide double entendre at me!” She squinted at Akon. “Is there any indication, do you think, that my baby is going to be particularly powerful? Is potential for bankai detectable at this point?”

“My data set is somewhat limited, Kuchiki.”

Renji jabbed a finger at Akon’s reiatsu meter. “I want to see it. I want to see my kid.”

Akon shook his head. “It’s just squiggles, man. You hate it when I make you look at squiggles.”

“That’s different! That’s when the squiggles are me, and they always mean something horrible, like I’ve busted my bankai or I’ve half phased into an alternate dimension. Now the squiggles are _my baby_ that I made _with Rukia_ , and I want to see them.”

Akon sighed, and turned his meter around. It was absolutely covered in squiggles. “These big green squiggles,” Akon explained, extremely patiently, because he was used to Renji, “are Rukia.” He hit a button, and a tiny subset of them turned magenta. These squiggles are _not_ Rukia. Happy now?”

Renji felt his eyes burning. He turned to look at Rukia. She grinned at him and squeezed his hand as tight as she could. He grinned back. He had never been happier.

end!

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the poem about the wren was resampled from [this oddly poetic 2004 Japan Times article about wrens](https://www.japantimes.co.jp/life/2004/10/14/environment/wren/). I was really just looking for Wren Facts, but had a lot of banger 5 and 7-syllable lines. Please, don't anyone tell the author that their perfectly nice article got used to make "found poetry" for a piece of pornographic anime fanfiction.


End file.
